A Matter of Seconds
by zookitty
Summary: Tag for Old Friends. As the bullet hit his brother's arm, Nate's world was thrust into slow motion


AN: My first Burn Notice fic but hardly my last I really just thought this scene could have had a lot more emotions than it did. I've always had a thing for brother stories...the more dysfuctional the better lol

Spoilers: Old Friends (103)

Special thanks to Greenleofiend for proof reading this for me

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Nate tried to force the lock, but he just couldn't get it to budge. A horn honked emphatically behind him. He didn't have to glance over his shoulder to know who it was.

Nate turned his eyes back on the lock and tried again. Michael always did the lock picking when they were kids. Whenever dad locked up the money, Michael knew exactly how to get it out. He learned a lot of shady skills back then, but he never did it for himself. Everything he did wrong was in some way to take care of the family in dad's absence—or worse still…when he _was_around.

Most people in their neighborhood knew what he did, but no one ever reported him, no one ever blamed him. They would just try and stir him back down the right path. Michael was always good at making friends like that.

_Just one more thing he was better at than me. _Nate thought bitterly.

"Nate!"

The younger brother rolled his eyes. _It's my money anyway…what's his problem? _

"Nate!!" Michael screamed again. "Nathan!"

The lock was almost free…

Suddenly gun shots rang out behind him. Nate whirled around. He saw Michael running toward him, hunched protectively toward the ground. Another gunshot sounded. The bullet flew through the air, ricocheting off a metal wall and suddenly his world was thrown into slow motion.

Michael cried out, hitting the pavement hard. Nate pulled his gun and started to fire blindly. He didn't care if he hit the shooter. Not right then. Right now all he cared about was pulling his big brother out of the line of fire.

But if Michael was hurt…then that sorry excuse for a Russian terminator better buy his tombstone.

Nate pulled Michael out of the street quickly. He heard the gunman's tires screech as he drove off, but his focus was completely on the withering form in front of him.

In life, there are things you like. There are also the things you dislike. These two are simple concepts. But love and hate are much more complex.

Five seconds ago Nate would have told you he hated Michael without batting his eye. The feelings would have been returned, only said much smoother by the older brother.

Now all Nate could think about was the blood running from his brother's arm. He couldn't remember ever feeling so numb and yet so intensely aware. He could feel the pained shudders running through Michael's form. His older brother was barely holding on to consciousness.

"Back door," Michael managed to squeak. Nate dragged him inside, laying him down quickly.

"Ambulance?"

"No!" Michael choked out. "We'll have to do it here."

"What?" Nate started. Not that it isn't every little brothers dream to be asked to hold a knife to their brother's back, but he couldn't seriously be asking that!

"Get cloth…bowl of water…" Michael moaned, easing himself onto his stomach. "Rubbing alcohol, a lighter and…a knife." Nate nodded grabbing all the items as they were said. He quickly set them out.

When they were kids he remembered that they would play doctor sometimes. Then came the times when they weren't playing, when dad would get the urge to smack someone around. Michael would take all the hits any time he could. Nate still remembered that part clearly. There were times when mom wasn't home that Michael would ask him to help. Nate would do whatever his brother asked. He learned how to wrap a broken wrist. How to patch a deep gash. How to keep a scar from getting infected, but this was the very first time he'd ever had to pull out a bullet.

Nate forced down his nerves, letting out a panicky laugh.

"You're enjoying this a little to much," Michael hissed, he obviously heard the laugh as sadistic. Nate made a stupid joke, but he barely heard himself say it. It was all he could do to keep his hand from shaking.

Nate felt his stomach churn threateningly as he pressed the knife in. He fought off the urge to turn away, keeping the chatting light and airy to try and calm his nerves. Michael cried out in pain, and Nate felt his heart wrench.

He slapped the bandage on roughly, causing a yelp from his brother. Nate walked numbly to the sink and washed the blood off his hands…his brother's blood. It was terrifyingly real at that moment.

Some friend of Michael's came and left. Then the older brother was back on his feet, brushing off what had just happened as if it were an every day occurrence.

"Thank you Nate for saving my life, here's your half of the money." Nate said mimicking his brother's voice. "No no your welcome Michael…anytime."

Michael walked over, looking into his brother's eyes without a hint of his normal agitation.

"Thank you for saving my life," the older brother spoke sincerely. "and here is your half of the money. Go pay those guys back." With that Michael put the envelope on the counter and walked away. Nate watched him go.

Five seconds ago Nate would have told you just how much he hated his big brother, and Michael would have returned the feeling fervently.

It's amazing what can change in a matter of seconds.

END


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